Devour Me (Master Chefs Series #1) (19 page)

A
loud thud was followed by the even louder clamor of a dead drop.

“Errol?”

Silence
clung to the darkness.

“Errol!”
Her loud pants of panic filled the room while the pounding of her heart
thundered in her ears. In a brief moment of lucidity amidst her panic, she held
her breath and listened for sounds of his breathing.

Nothing.
Her panic resumed.

The
blackness weighed down on her, collapsing over her and leaving her feeling
trapped. Ignoring the possible consequences of moving her legs while the awful
gadget was shoved up inside her, she put her legs on the floor and tried to
think rationally.

But
rational thought escaped her as the need to free herself overpowered her. She
struggled against the handcuffs, hoping the table legs would yield. They didn’t
budge. In her struggles to get loose, she banged her fists against the floor,
but noticed, a moment too late, that she’d inadvertently tightened the
handcuffs around her wrists.

“Errol!”
she shouted into the abyss.

Silence
answered her back as she fought desperately against the dark.

Chapter 21

E
rrol’s first waking thoughts centered on the
pounding headache that throbbed along the width of his forehead.  “What the
hell…?”  He opened his eyes to the complete blackness that surrounded him,
closed them again as he tried to understand what had happened then opened them
again.

After
a few seconds of staring into nothingness, his memory slowly brought him to the
moments just before he’d knocked himself out. Taryn… he’d handcuffed her, or
was that just part of the fantasy he’d created?

Sitting
up, he held his head in his hands for a long moment. The initial throbbing
along his brow had spread to envelope his entire head with a strange numbing
sensation. His ears popped and he felt strangely congested.  His jaw hurt, the
dull jolts of pain driving up to his teeth. He felt as if his brain wanted to seep
out of every orifice.

He
slowly got to his feet and stretched his hands out in front of him to find the
nearest wall.

“Taryn,”
he softly called out. His voice reverberated in his head and he leaned into the
wall for support. “Taryn.”

A
rage of bile rose to his throat as he remembered where he’d left her… and in
what position. “Taryn!” Running his hands over the wall, he tried to imagine
where he was. Then he remembered he’d gone to the storage closet for candles.

Leaving
the security of the wall, he stooped over and tapped the floor around him until
he found the candles. Holding his hands blindly in front of him, he took slow
careful steps until he touched the soft leather of his sofa.  He followed the
back of the sofa to the end table and opened the small drawer hoping to find a
lighter. Aside from a pad of paper, a few pens and an old remote control, there
was nothing. He went on a few paces until he came to a chair set at the end of
his dinner table. Among the objects there, he knew there was a box of long
stick matches. Searching with his hands, he finally found it, slipped it open
and pulled out a match.

The
instant he struck it to a flame, he saw Taryn lying limp under the table, one
wrist still handcuffed to the table, while the other…bruised, with the handcuff
still on, but free from its chain. Taryn had managed to break the link to free
herself. Errol’s heart sank.

Immediately
dropping to his knees, he caressed her cheek. “Taryn, baby. I’m here Taryn. Everything’s
going to be all right.” He kissed her forehead, her lips, and her wrists. “I’m
so sorry, baby. I didn’t know. I couldn’t get back in time…”

The
dry tracks of tears streaked down across her face as she stared blindly up at
the underside of the table. Beads of sweat trickled down either side of her
forehead and a red welt showed where she’d smashed her head against the floor.

“Taryn,”
he said as he gently shook her shoulder.

She
turned away from him.

“I’m
sorry, baby. I was only gone a minute.”  In truth, he had no idea how long he’d
really been out.  “I’m here now.” He gulped back tears. “I’m so sorry…”

Taryn
couldn’t even move at first, she could only rock back and forth, her naked arms
around herself, trying to keep from shuddering. Being chained in pitched black…it
was her worst nightmare, but one that seemed like a distant memory. Something
she couldn’t remembered because it happened when she was so young. She couldn’t
remember; she had no energy for that.

She
only knew that her body had a memory, and it was deathly afraid of what went on
in pitch black darkness.

And
if Chef Errol King was aroused by that, liked playing games in the dark, then
she knew what she had to do.

Epilogue

C
harles-de-Gaulle airport faded to nothing as
the plane took off, leaving Paris far, far behind. Her dreams for the future,
her new love, her sexual apprenticeship… all abandoned. Taryn stared out the
window as the plane pierced through the clouds that hovered over the city of
lights. The sun shined brilliantly against a sky of pure blue.

She
would have preferred to remain in the murky grays of the dense clouds.

The
decision had been difficult, but in the end, she knew it was the only one she
could live with. Errol had shown, beyond her darkest nightmares, how heartless
and brutal he could be. He’d proven himself to be worse than the rumors she’d
so often heard about him.

“Coffee? 
Café?” the flight attendant said as he rolled a cart down the aisle. “Brioche?”

She
nodded and reached out for a cup.  “Café.  Merci.”

Like
a moth to a flame, his gaze landed on the scars on her wrist and he offered her
a quick and sympathetic nod.

Taryn
concentrated her gaze on her coffee and quickly pulled the cuff of her blouse
over the red rings that encircled her wrists; reminders of her struggle against
the handcuffs. While her blouse hid a good portion of the marks left on her
skin, it didn’t manage to hide the scratches and scraped that went halfway up
the back of her hands, some of which had turned a nasty shade of blue.

Thankfully,
the flight to New York was only half booked. Not only had it allowed her to get
a seat at the last minute, but she also had the luxury of having an empty seat
beside her. One less person to look quizzically at the scars she bore.

She
leaned back against the headrest and looked outside. Why did it have to come to
this? she wanted to say to Errol. 
Why did you have to push me too far? Why
did you leave me there alone to freak out in the dark?  It was my first time in
handcuffs… you must have known how insecure I already felt about that.  Why
does loving you have to be filled with so much pain? 
Perhaps she should
have stayed around and asked him that point blank.  Either too cowardly or too
shook up by the events of the night before, she’d chosen the easy way out, and
had packed her bags and left in the dark of night.

Closing
her eyes, she immediately saw his face and a pang of regret tugged at her
heart. It was inconceivable.  How could she have let herself fall in love with
such a man? He was all passion, all consuming, so much more experienced in life
and sex than her. He was the kind of man, any woman would lose their minds
over. Being with him was like being in the middle of a tornado, safe but wildly
dangerous at the same time. One move out of the center, could rip her to
shreds.

In
love? Could she truly be in love with him?  He was a brute, an arrogant
know-it-all and a jealous freak all rolled into one.  What was there to love?

That
boyish grin when they worked together.  The joyous gleam in his eyes when he
looked at her.  The tender touch of his hands all over her body.

Is
that enough?

Clearly
not, she answered herself.

And
your diploma?

“It
can wait until later,” she muttered.

“Pardon?”

Taryn
opened her eyes and looked at the flight attendant who was on his way back with
his empty cart.  “Sorry.  Nothing.”

He
grinned and continued on.

The
flight seemed endless as Taryn tried to find ways to keep her mind occupied.  Sleep
was out of the question. The moment she closed her eyes, all she could see was
Errol, and in the one brief dream she’d slipped into, he was naked and glorious
as he reached out to pull her into his arms. She had slept with him almost
every night since she had arrived in Paris…how could her body leave his warmth,
his touch, the soft kisses, and the fiery passion?

She
flipped through a few magazines, but nothing interested her. Even a popular
cooking magazine with recipes that might have otherwise interested her could
not hold her attention.  She looked out the window… same clear blue sky, only
the sun was in a different place.

A
sigh escaped her as she tried to imagine the conversation she would have with
her mother once she got home.  Only an hour remained before the cityscape she
knew so well came into view.

Her
mother would be furious. And how could Taryn explain it?  She had no idea.

The
seatbelt light came on, and soon JFK came into view.  Taryn took the soft and
gentle landing as a good omen. She took her bag out of the overhead compartment
and breathed a strangled sigh of relief as she left the plane.

She
was on her home turf now… safe, secure… predictable.

Before
she reached the end of the terminal, she turned her phone on to call her
mother. Instead, her phone beeped out its signal of an oncoming text message.

Her
hand shook. It had to be him, but did she want to know what he said? There was
nothing he could say; nothing he could do. It was over.

She
stopped walking and stood there while passengers filed left and right of her. A
few grumbled and groaned, but only when a large New Yorker with an attitude
demanded she move aside did she realize where she was. Muttering an apology,
she walked out of the terminal and harbored in a quiet corner.

After
a moment of hesitation, she checked her phone to see there were seven texts.
She’d just barely boarded the plane when Errol had sent the first one.

Where
are you?

It
was so typical of him. She was distraught and confused and he was just angry to
see she wasn’t there where she was supposed to be. Five minutes later, he sent
the next text.

I
see you’ve packed your things. Did you go off with that Henri kid? You know how
I feel about that. Are you trying to run me off a cliff with jealousy?

“Way
to go, Errol. Just keep digging yourself in deeper,” Taryn muttered. The next
text was sent fifteen minutes later.

Just
talked to Henri and he said he has no idea where you are. Where are you?

Two
minutes.

I
know last night was difficult for you. Believe me, I never intended to
traumatize you.  If you left because of that, you have to come back.  Let me
make it up to you.  You know I’d never hurt you. Taryn, please.

Thirty
seconds.

Answer
me, Taryn!

Ten
seconds.

Sorry,
Taryn.  I just can't believe you're gone. Are you heading back home? Go to New
York?  How could you do that?  And leave everything behind?  Me?  Your
diploma?  What are you thinking, Taryn? Please, just let me know where you are.
Let me know you're okay. I never meant to hurt you. Please see me.

One
minute.

Taryn,
I know you aren’t answering my texts, but know this. The last couple of months
with you have changed me, challenged me in many ways, taken me to places
emotionally and physically that I never thought I could go. I never thought I
could have such a strong instant connection to you, to anyone, but when I read
your desire to attend The Institute, then saw your photo; it reached into me
and pulled at me until I had to take a chance with you. I’m scared about us,
just as you are. I don’t think I could ever feel this way about anyone…please,
Taryn…come back to me.

Savor
Me (Volume 2, Master Chefs Series)

July
2013

A Sneak Peak
at:

Savor
Me

Master Chefs #2

Kailin
Gow

Prologue

“Over
here, Miss Taryn Cummings.”

Caught
in the busy come and go of JFK airport, Taryn turned to see her brother in the
crowd, waving her over.  He flashed her a mocking grin.  Forcing a smile, she
waved and maneuvered her way to him.  “Bobby,” she said as she gave him a hug. 
“What are you doing here?  Mom made you come out and get me, huh?”

He
kissed her cheek and took her suitcase.  “Hey, what an opinion you have of your
little brother.  I offered to come.”

“Yeah,
I know how you love to drive through traffic, wrestle into a parking space and
elbow your way through this crowd… all to come and help me lug my suitcase back
out… How far are you parked?”

Chuckling,
he put his arm around her shoulder and escorted her out.  “It’s a beautiful day
for a walk in the Big A.  I’m sure after being cooped up in that plane for
hours, a little fresh air will do you good.”

Shielding
his eyes from the blinding sun, he stopped and looked out at the field of
cars.  “Now, if only I could remember where I left that big, black sucker.”

Taryn
looked at him.  “Mom let you take her Lexus?”

“Hey,
I’m offended.  You say that like I’m not trustworthy.”  He continued to scan
the parking lot.